


sometimes death seems better than the migraine in my head

by csmickey



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: McPriceley if you squint, me? projecting onto my favorite character? its more likely than you think!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 19:18:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11698197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/csmickey/pseuds/csmickey
Summary: Kevin was eleven years old when he got his first migraine. As the other boys fell asleep, one by one, the stinging pain in Kevin's head refused to let him succumb to the beckoning call of sleep. It felt as if there was a needle being forced through the space of his eyebrow.





	sometimes death seems better than the migraine in my head

**Author's Note:**

> this is 100% just me projecting my own migraines onto Kevin, because I was mad at myself for not being able to 100% enjoy my vacation to the beach bc of a migraine. Obviously, migraines present themselves differently in everyone and have different causes. Most people have more than 5 migraines in their life, obviously, but it felt cleaner to write it the way I did. I hope y'all can enjoy it and please, give me any feedback you can, as I haven't written in a while and am trying to develop my writing again.
> 
> Also warning, there are a few descriptions that I felt were a bit gross (about vomit) but also felt were necessary, so if that grosses you out, read with caution.

1.   
  
Kevin was eleven years old when he got his first migraine. He was at a friend's birthday party, so he thought it would be best to ignore the dull ache behind his brow and hope it would disappear on its own. Unfortunately, that didn't work out very well for him. By the time the rest of his friends were lying down to sleep, the pain in his head had multiplied. He lay amidst the other tired boys with a desperate desire to rest his head. As the other boys fell asleep, one by one, the stinging pain in Kevin's head refused to let him succumb to the beckoning call of sleep. It felt as if there was a needle being forced through the space of his eyebrow.   
  
Two in the morning rolled around and every other boy was fast asleep while Kevin was still tossing and turning. The pain was somehow worse now. It hurt to close his eyes, but it hurt even more to keep them open. He felt his heart racing beneath the soft fabric of his pajamas, his tired lungs desperate for a breath of fresh air. Not only was his head screaming, but the rest of his body was burning up and the pain was coursing through every single limb. He attempted to control his breathing, counting in and out, but by the third "1, 2, 3", he felt hot bile coming up in his throat. He sprang off the floor and sprinted out of the room and down the hallway to the bathroom. He threw  himself over the toilet as he watched an ugly mixture of cake and stomach acid splash against the water.    
  
He wiped an aching hand against his sweaty forehead, swallowing the slimy spit that had collected in his burning throat, and leaned against the cool tile of the bathroom wall. If he could've, he would've fallen asleep right there. But the pain in his head refused to calm. He turned his back against the wall, drawing in his knees and resting his head on them. He stayed right there, barely awake but just awake enough to feel the burning sensation journeying through his head, until he knew the other boys would be waking up and he would have to pretend to be okay. By the morning, the pain had dulled to an ache and he rejoined the other boys. The other boys woke up, his mom picked him up, and he swore he would never mention how horrific the night had been to anyone.   
  
2.   
  
The second migraine Kevin had was when he was fourteen. He hadn't talked to anyone about the first one, but he remembered it vividly and he had done some research about what caused migraines and how to avoid them. He was happy to be three years since the first one without another incident, but his hopes of it being a one-time thing were dashed when he was getting ready for his school's winter dance and he noticed the blurry floaters in his vision. Kevin desperately hoped that he was mistaken.    
  
He went through the motions of getting ready, fixing his hair and putting on his button up and dress pants, all the while ignoring the gentle push above the brow. Contrary to the first time, it hadn't developed into much more than a simple headache by the time he met up with his friends. They headed towards the dance and Kevin hoped it would amount to not much more than a slight ache that he could handle without obvious effort.    
  
By the time he got to the dance, he could tell the pain was getting worse. As the night wore on, and Kevin's energy drained, his head began to pound along with the crappy music that the DJ was playing. With every bad pop song, his discomfort increased. He was resigned to staying glued to the corner farthest away from the speaker system.   
  
"Geez, I know high school dances suck, but I figured pretty boy Kevin Price would be having the time of his life." Kevin was surprised to hear someone speaking to him and his head shot up at the sound. The motion caused a bout of dizziness and Kevin had to force himself to focus on the girl in front of him. She wasn't conventionally pretty, not like the girls his parents tried to get him to like, but she wasn't unattractive either. He also couldn't say that he recognized her, even though she clearly knew who he was.   
  
"I'm just..." He paused, pretending to think about what to say, but really trying to dwell the pounding in his head. After a couple seconds of gripping his punch cup a little harder than necessary, he gave up. "Not really feeling it, I guess." He shrugged, bringing the too-sweet punch cup up to his lips, hoping the girl would take the hint of few words and leave him alone.   
  
"I mean, yeah, I'm not really feeling it either. This dance _sucks_. But you look a little worse than 'not really feeling it', buddy. Your friends are all," She glanced at the dance floor where all of Kevin's usual group of friends were yelling and dancing, "living it up. You just look exhausted. Are you okay, Kevin Price?" The girl stared him down, as if she could see right through him.    
  
"I'm fine." He said, though him breaking eye contact made her less likely to believe him. He hoped she didn't notice the grimace when he took another sip of punch. "Dances just aren't my thing."    
  
"Oh, come on. I know you and your whole group of good boy Mormons. You all live for the overly cheesy, high school trademarked events. It's your first high school dance, by all previous accounts, this should be the best night of your life." The girl forced Kevin to maintain eye contact as he was losing the struggle to keep his breathing in a regular pattern. "You -- I mean -- you're not fine, Kevin."   
  
Kevin felt unreasonable anger welling up in his chest. Kevin hated that this girl whose name he didn't even know could look at him and see everything he thought he was hiding well. He hated that she used his full name, as if that meant she knew him. As if knowing his name meant that she knew who he was. Kevin prided himself on his self-control, but the music seemed louder and the lights seemed brighter and his head was pounding more and more and he couldn't keep his mouth shut.   
  
"You know what? Maybe I'm not fine, maybe I don't wanna be here, but that's none of your business." He stepped forward, ignoring the way his head spun as he set his drink down on the nearest table. "I'm not your _buddy_ , I'm not your friend, _you don't know me._ " He stopped talking as the room began to spin. He grabbed the table where he had set his drink down with a vice like grip. His eyes were focused straight forward at the girl who now looked like nothing more than a blur and if she was talking, he could not hear her. "Excuse me, I have to go vomit now. Stop talking." He took off in a quick stride before turning around despite the unforgiving bile rising in his throat. "Please."   
  
He resumed quick, confident strides through the crowd despite the desperate urge to curl into a ball that was coursing through his stomach. By the time he made it outside, he didn't have the energy left to hold the vomit back. As soon as his face hit the cold air outside he saw punch and cookies spilling out of his stomach, landing with a splash next to the school doors. He brought shaking fingers up to push sweat-soaked hair out of his face as he let out a shaky laugh. He couldn't tell what he found funny about the situation, but his brain hurt and his body ached and he didn't have any energy left. He walked a few paces past the pool of his own vomit and slid down the wall until he was sitting.    
  
The thought of calling his mom to pick him up passed through his mind, but he decided he didn't have the energy to explain to her why he wanted to leave right now. He would just have to wait for his friends here, where the cool air felt wonderful against his pounding head. He found comfort, at least, in the fact that the mystery girl hadn't made an attempt to follow him.   
  
3.   
  
The next time, he was sixteen. His family had organized a small trip to the beach and he was as excited as he could be. Kevin loved the beach. He loved the atmosphere, he loved the people, and he loved that he could just relax and enjoy himself. It wasn't often that he could let his guard down. Whether it was at school, where he had to have perfect academics, or at home, where he had to be the perfect Mormon, he always had something stressing him out. While he was at the beach, he could just exist and let loose a little bit.    
  
He was buzzing with excitement for the ride to the beach and he practically jumped out of his skin while they unpacked their stuff into the condo. Kevin's heart sank when he felt the familiar sting above his left eyebrow while they were walking over to the shore. As they set up their chairs, he took a moment for a selfish prayer to Heavenly Father, asking for the headache to blow over and to let him enjoy this time at the beach.   
  
Three hours later, he found himself laying on a towel with his sunglasses over his eyes and one arm draped across his forehead, the other resting on his stomach. His family was to his left, chatting with the friends they had quickly made on the beach. If it wasn't for the obnoxious ache encompassing his skull, he probably would've been chatting with them, too. However, the thought of using his brain for more than just idle thoughts caused a whole new ache to form in Kevin's head. He let out a large sigh when these idle thoughts were interrupted by someone calling his name. He slowly opened his eyes and used the arm that was across his forehead to slide his sunglasses down and see who was approaching him. He squinted to see more clearly through the sun and was taken aback when he saw the girl who had tried to talk to him two years ago at the dance. He had tried to reach out and apologize but hadn't been able to find out who she was with what little information he had.   
  
"Are you stalking me?" He blurted out, the stars dancing across his vision making it much harder for him to think through his thoughts before speaking.    
  
"What?" The girl let the shock show on her face for a second, before shaking her head and sitting in the sand next to him. "No, I'm not stalking you. I'm just at the beach with my friends. Why in the world would you think I'm stalking you?"   
  
"I don't know." Kevin slid his sunglasses back where they had been resting and looked straight up. "You seemed to know who I was at the dance, even though I had no clue who you were. I was gonna apologize for being rude, but nobody knew who I was talking about and I couldn't exactly give a great description of you. I was a little, uh, messed up that night, couldn't remember much about you or if you gave me your name."    
  
He heard her let out an over exaggerated audible gasp and then a little laugh. "You  _ did  _ leave to vomit. Was good boy extraordinaire Kevin Price drunk?" She questioned in jest. Kevin knew she was trying to joke with him, but he felt that white hot anger that he hadn't felt since the dance rising up in his chest. At least he was in a better condition to hold himself back now.    
  
"Stop acting like you know me." He said coldly but, to his relief, calmly, moving his arm back up to rest across his forehead. "And no, I wasn't drunk. That's illegal and a sin, no thanks."    
  
"Woah, okay. I feel the cool breeze coming off you. I thought maybe the dance was just, like, a one-time Kevin lets out his rude side thing, but evidently you're just a jerk behind that good boy exterior. Sorry for trying to reach out to you when you looked uncomfortable. Won't do it again." She rolled her eyes, pushing herself up off the sand and making to leave.   
  
"Wait," He shot straight up, grabbing her wrist and pulling her disgracefully back to the sand. She had to have noticed him cringe as the dizzy rush reached his head and he closed his eyes to re-calibrate. “I don’t -- I didn’t -- I mean I don’t want you to think I’m, like, a terrible person because I’m not.”

“You’ve not really done much to show me otherwise.” She said, eyeing him carefully as she pushed herself back up to a sitting position from where she had fallen. “Sorry for interrupting your basking in the sun and probably thinking about how great you are. Maybe I’ll see you around, Kevin Price.” She pushed herself back up off the sand, and just like that, she was gone.

Kevin watched her retreating back with a sigh. He knew he shouldn’t let her get to him, and that she didn’t know who he was at all. It was hard, however, with Kevin’s soul aching to be perfect in every single way and the pressure of somebody possibly hating him eating him up from the inside out. He readjusted his sunglasses before resigning to lay back down and try to push the thoughts of this girl out of his mind. That was the last time he saw her.

 

4.

The next time he had a migraine was only a year later on his seventeenth birthday. When he woke up and noticed the slight blur in his vision and the prick of a pin beneath his forehead, he swore to himself he would keep it low key for the day. He recognized the symptoms of his migraines and he was determined to keep this one at bay. He wouldn’t do anything to aggravate it, he would just go to school and come home directly after. He had made the mistake of attempting to tell his mother about them after their trip to the beach and he had been told that “it must’ve just been Heavenly Father punishing him for a sin he had accidentally committed”. As silly as it sounded, he couldn’t help but to believe that it was true. They seemed to only happen at certain times and Kevin wasn’t sure what the common thread between them was. He didn’t think he had committed any sins, but Heavenly Father clearly knew better than him.

What he was certainly not expecting was the ear-piercing scream of “Happy Birthday” as soon as he got into his friends expensive car. In all his fretting over the migraine, he had completely forgotten his own birthday until his friend announced it to the whole neighborhood through the open door.

“Thanks,” He muttered, sliding into the seat and slipping the seat belt over his body. As he settled back against the headrest, he slipped his sunglasses over his eyes. He didn’t notice the look of concern his friend gave him as he pulled out of the driveway.

“Kev?” His friend tried to catch his attention as he started the drive to school. “It’s raining, you don't really... need sunglasses. And it’s your birthday, have some cheer!” He used the hand that wasn’t steering to gently nudge Kevin’s shoulder. Somehow, Kevin wasn’t really feeling the birthday cheer that year. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He set his arm down on the armrest and rested his head against it. “I didn’t sleep well last night, uh…” He paused to rub his temple. “Just couldn’t get to sleep with all the… excitement… for today, y’know? I’m _seventeen_.” His voice wasn’t exactly dripping with enthusiasm, but the sound of rain pounding on the roof was also pounding through his head and he couldn’t bring himself to care about his friends concern.

Thankfully, his friend backed off and didn’t bother him about his seemingly lackluster mood. He made it through the school day and made it home without incident. This was the first year Kevin didn’t have a birthday party, but it was also the first migraine that passed without public embarrassment or his stomach contents coming up. When it came to his birthday, he would much rather be curled up in the dark for the afternoon than dealing with his noisy friends and bright lights.

5.

After a few uneventful years, Kevin ended up in Uganda for his mission. The first few days of his mission went by so fast, he hardly had time to process anything. By the time that he had a moment to himself, it felt as if his head was reeling and ready to implode upon itself. Arnold was with Nabulungi, a majority of the rules that had reigned over his life for so long had been thrown out in a matter of days, and Kevin was now sitting on his bed alone. He slowly rolled his neck around and let out a sigh as he felt all of his muscles relax slightly. He had felt the symptoms of a migraine almost as soon as they had stepped foot into the bright Uganda sun, but he had felt the need to ignore them in favor of their mission. However, post complete breakdown and loss of faith, he felt great regret for ignoring the tell-tale symptoms as they were only aggravated now. There was a small part of his brain that kept jumping back to what his mother had told him about the migraines two years prior.  _ It must be Heavenly Father punishing you for a sin you don’t remember committing. _ The words echoed through his aching head and he wanted them to leave his ears forever. He couldn’t help but wonder if Heavenly Father was punishing him for drinking coffee, for leaving the church, for endorsing the new found Church of Arnold, for making his own decisions.

He brought a hand up to gently rub at his temple as he closed his eyes and watched the tiny lights dance across his eyelids. He took a deep breath and stood up. He would never feel even the tiniest bit of relief just sitting on his bed. He quietly opened the door to their room and slipped out, tiptoeing down the hallway to the small kitchen area. With a small falter as he waited for a short dizzy rush to pass, he held his hand on the counter to support himself. Once he was certain he would be able to sustain himself on his own, he grabbed a pot and began to boil some water. He knew they had gotten a hold of some herbal tea leaves from a nearby market and he was hoping some hot tea could help cease the throbbing in his head. As his hands brushed over the various items in the cabinet in search of the tea leaves, he heard his name from behind him and his startled hands knocked over a box of pasta noodles out of the cabinet and onto the floor.

“Shit... “ He muttered, almost as an immediate reaction, the clattering on the floor instantly aggravating his already aggravated head. He instinctively squatted down to pick up the scattered noodles, but the sudden movement caused stars to blur across his vision and he lost his balance, falling backwards and barely catching himself with his hands. “Um, McKinley, I’m sorry…” He pushed himself back up onto his knees and hurriedly attempted to gather the noodles despite his head increasing in pain by the second and the heavy sweat gathering onto his brow.

“Oh, Elder Price, you’re okay, I was just asking what you were doing up.” The older Elder knelt down next to him to help clean up the mess. It wasn’t that it was particularly late, or that there was still a curfew, but Elder McKinley had asked the other Elders to at least make an effort and stick to curfew as a last attempt to maintain some order in the small hut.

“Kevin.” Kevin said as he looked up from the spilled pasta and into Elder McKinley’s eyes. “You can call me Kevin... now. With the whole Church of Arnold thing, you know, Kevin’s fine.” He quickly broke eye contact and finished scooping the pasta back into the box and set it on the counter, before standing up himself. “I was just looking for that tea from the market.”

“Only if you’ll call me Connor.” He smiled slightly, stepping to the other side of the kitchen and opening a drawer to pull the small tea bags out of, handing one to Kevin. “You couldn’t sleep, either?” 

“No. I’ve just got a headache is all.” He murmured, completely underselling the blinding pain coursing through his head at that very moment. He looked down and plopped the tea bag into the boiling water, carefully watching the bubbles popping up and around it. For a second, the repetitive motion of the boiling water made it easier to not focus on his aching head. His peace only lasted for seconds, as he heard Connor’s voice floating through the kitchen again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kevin’s head snapped up. He hadn't noticed Connor stepping closer while he was zoned out, and the only thing in focus was Connor’s concerned face, with stars dancing around the outline of his face. He extended the back of his hand carefully and felt Kevin’s forehead, frowning when he pulled his hand away. “You’re burning up, Kevin. And sweating buckets. Not to mention, you look exhausted.”

“I’m fine, really.” There wasn’t much enthusiasm or certainty in Kevin’s voice, but he hoped the other Elder would buy his act. The look of genuine concern on Connor’s face wasn’t helping. “Really, I am. This happens sometimes, I just get headaches. Or migraines. It’s not a big deal, I’ll just make this tea and go lay down, I’ll be fine.”

Connor looked almost offended by the subtle confession of illness from the younger Elder. “Oh, my! No, Kevin, migraines are a serious thing, they can be terrible!” Connor’s hand quickly found itself in the small of Kevin’s back, leading him out of the kitchen and towards his room. “Kevin, please lay down if you’ve got a migraine, you look terrible. I’ll make your tea, okay?”

Kevin wanted to argue but the gentle pressure of the hand against his back and the genuine worry displayed on Connor’s face made him comply with the gentle help being offered to him. He allowed Connor to guide him to the bed and make sure he had laid down before going back out to the kitchen. When Connor returned with the cup of tea and a slice of bread, assuring him that he didn’t have to eat it if he wasn’t sure he could keep it down, Kevin felt at peace. This was the first time he hadn’t felt alone during one of his migraines, as if he wasn’t isolated from the people around him. The care that Connor was showing him made his heart flutter and soon after the Elder left, Kevin fell into a mostly peaceful sleep. When he awoke mere hours later, he could still feel a slight ache but he felt better than he had felt since his arrival in Uganda.


End file.
